No Death Can Tear Us
by irl-alfed
Summary: Just an experiment with a dying Karkat and my chucklevoodoo headcanons. Tell me what you think...


You see his small, limp body lying on front of you, and you do not move. You simply can't.

This wasn't your fault and you know it.

But your matesprit is dying.

He stares up at you, his breathing slow and wet, and you try not to cringe every time you hear the blood gurgling when he inhales.

You grab hold of his hand, and his fingers are cold, something you have never felt before. His core temperature is far warmer than yours…

You don't even feel the teardrop leave your half-lidded eye when he tries to squeak out your name. He is leaving you.

You gently pull him onto your lap and start lightly running your claws over his cheeks, your shoulders racking with sobs. You take in all that you can, blinking away the pool of purple tears in order to stare at his face. His reddish-gray freckles that bloom on his nose and cheeks, his now fading candy-red eyes that hold such love for you. Your yellow claws trace over his pointed ears, scraping over the cartilage and stopping at the translucent red tears caught in his sideburns. You lean down and press your forehead to his, closing your eyes. You kiss him, and keep doing so even though you taste his blood. You ignore your shirt being soaked by the bright red, acrylic-like substance, trying to shove the idea of him being in pain far out of your thinkpan.

But this memory has already been forged, and it will definitely hold an exclusive place in your mind. There is nothing you can do to…

Wait…

Maybe there is.

Your eyes snap open as you remember what you are able to do. For once you are proud of your blood caste inheritance. You lean back slowly, trying not to move him too much for fear of hurting the three large impalements in his abdomen.

You think hard, listing your abilities versus things you cannot do with your powers. You can enter thoughts, control muscle, nerves, body tissues-

That mean you can control living organisms even to the smallest degree.

You smile crookedly, wondering if he is actually already dead in your arms and your mind is just creating this illusion to block out the trauma. But you try anyway.

You close your eyes and furrow your brows, opening them quickly once you feel that the connection has been made. You feel a strong, sharp, constant pain in your torso and take note that you are in control of Karkat now, in control of his nervous system, which means you can feel anything he feels. You can hear his thoughts as well, which are a bit bleak and blurry, but they are directed towards you. How you are feeling. If you think it's your fault. If you think it's his fault. What you're going to do after he's gone.

You clench your eyes shut, only part of yourself subconsciously while you are more consciously controlling him. You locate the torn, broken flesh and muscle at his middle, grabbing hold of the cells with your chucklevoodoos. This is going to take more effort than you have ever used.

You grit your teeth, commanding each and every one of the cells that make up his delicate body to multiply and grow over the wounds. You heal the deepest parts first, mending his internal organs and abdominal muscles before sealing him up with new, soft skin. You can feel his mind gradually coming back,, and you drain his mouth and esophagus of blood, feeling his start to move. You rest in his mind, relishing in his wonderful thoughts about you, before deciding that it is time to return to him.

The deep purple haze that has been covering your vision clears and you blink rapidly, tensing up as the small troll in your arms sits up swiftly and heaves, looking confused as nothing flies out of his body. He looks down, coughing, gripping and pulling at his sweater that is caked with semi-dried blood. You know you're going to have to explain this later. It certainly must be odd being covered in your owl vital fluid and not feeling any pain.

He stops hacking, catching his breath, and he looks over at you. As your deep purple eyes get lost in his bright, glowing crimson ones, you laugh, letting tears fall. You never thought you would be so happy to see life.

He leans forward and buries his head into your neck, tearing the fabric of your shirt a tiny bit as he sobs, stuttering out thank-you's and i love you's and so many other sweet things that you have only heard in the most emotional, intimate, secret times of your life with him. You hang on to him just as tight as he does you, and you smile as you feel his chest moving with his functioning lungs as he cries. You feel your blood pusher being filled with joy when you feel his pulse on the side of his neck and the tears on your bare neck. You saved him. You saved him and you will be able to love him and he will be able to love you back.

And once more, you sob, but this time for happiness.


End file.
